Google Phone - great for geeks, not as much for humans

Google just unveiled their Nexus One Phone in an attempt to unseat Apple from its throne. Unfortunately, it falls far short of being capable of achieving that objective.

The visual appeal of the phone does little to improve on what a number of smartphones out there already offer. But the problem lies with the way applications are designed. There's plenty of blatant copying of the iPhone's designs in terms of selection of apps and layouts - but it's the bad kind of copying that doesn't improve upon the original.

Maps does well to integrate the visual of street view - but to do it under the name of "layers" is a classic example of what happens when geeks design applications. A similar example of that is Google naming their latest breakthrough in messaging "Wave". Neither "Wave" nor "Layers" convey anything to a common person - you have to explain to them why it's called what it's called, and that just defeats the purpose. Google's apps have features "layered in" - something that iPhone apps stayed away from, for the most part. The rationale behind that is a simple design thesis - the deeper a feature is embedded, the less intuitive it is, and therefore it's less likely to be understood and used.

Overall, what I'd call an "also-ran". Google and T-Mobile, unfortunately, will have to spend a lot on marketing to make it a blockbuster success.

Alvida, Asheem

The opening call of "Bandeh" sounds like someone calling out not to you, but to something inside of you. It makes you drop everything and pay a listen. And what a listen it turns out to be. The song epitomizes what Indian Ocean's music is all about - a fusion of styles that span eras and geographies, nectar to one's ears.

Asheem Chakravarty, the band's founder, percussionist and vocalist, passed away on Christmas Day in New Delhi. I had not heard the band's music until about three months ago, and saw them perform for the first time a week later. I know practically nothing of his personal life. And yet, Asheem's passing saddens me like that of a close friend's would. In all my years, this is probably my first experience of how an art form can connect people. It's a very exhilirating, yet humbling experience.

The voice might be gone, but I hope the band plays on. It's time to light up, pop in a CD, and reminisce in the memories of a departed friend.

Asheem Chakravarty. Good musician. Good man. Rest in peace.

What would Bachchan do?

Amitabh Bachchan lashed out at the award winning (more like award sweeping) movie "Slumdog Millionaire" on his blog. Here's a slightly misinterpreted report on that on BBC News.

"If SM (Slumdog Millionaire) projects India as [a] Third World dirty underbelly developing nation and causes pain and disgust among nationalists and patriots, let it be known that a murky underbelly exists and thrives even in the most developed nations," Mr Bachchan wrote in his blog.
"It's just that the SM idea authored by an Indian and conceived and cinematically put together by a Westerner, gets creative [Golden] Globe recognition. The other would perhaps not."

I'm not sure if I understand Mr. Bachchan's concern here. The real India does have a huge dirty underbelly - among the world's largest, actually. Hiding it from the world is not going to make it go away - in fact, exposing it might just kindle the kind of awareness that brings in its wake political pressures as well as targeted charitable investments, both of which are badly needed to attack this problem at its roots. As Mr. Bachchan rightly pointed out, such an underbelly exists in the most developed nations. Maybe he should invest some time exploring the cinema of the UK, Japan, Italy, China and also the non-blockbuster movies of the US - and he'll find that artists in these countries don't soften any blows when depicting the wretched life of the downtrodden.

I can't agree more with Mr. Bachchan's implied message of movies getting more acclaim in award shows like the Oscars and Globes if they're produced/directed under a western name. My first stark realization of that was the failure of these academies to honor the brilliant Shekhar Kapur movie "Elizabeth", while showering the very average "Shakespeare in Love" with accolades in the same year. However, rather than whine about why the western shows that we Indians idolize so much don't idolize us back, I'd expect someone with Mr. Bachchan's maturity to realize that these awards are not as much about quality as they are about popularity, marketing skills and political clout.

I'd expect a man of Mr. Bachchan's stature, influence and talent to spend some time being a part of reform in Indian cinema. Here's an Industry that has at least two major hubs, a dozen major production houses, employs hundreds of thousands of people, turns over millions of dollars every year in revenues globally and guides the lifestyle of a billion people. Yet, it doesn't have an award show of the calibre of the Oscars, leave alone better than the Oscars (the best we have is a lousy imitation). There's little popularization of great regional movies from Tamil and other cinemas to mainstream hindi-speaking audiences through subtitles, etc. There's absolutely no heed paid to screening or popularizing other asian countries' cinema (especially that from Hong Kong and Japan, which turn out very high quality social and action movies).

Mr. Bachchan's 1999 effort to find the hottest star in India gets an honorable mention in the BBC news report. It falls short of mentioning that due to poor management, the production company had to pull the plug on that show without paying dues to some of the participants. Being closely associated with one of the participants of that program, I know that some of them were driven to that same underbelly of India, taking up drugs and working as escorts to pay for them. While that shouldn't be logged under the list of Mr. Bachchan's follies, he's certainly going to have to try harder than this diatribe to project a better image of India.

People versus Parents

The BBC reported on a six year old kid who, having missed his school bus, took the parents' car keys and tried to drive their Taurus to school. He maneuvered through traffic for a while but eventually ran off the road. The mother was sleeping at the time. Not sure what the father was up to. The parents are being charged with neglect. The kids have been put into protective custody.

Here's my question to all parents out there - is it absolutely unimaginable for you that your kid could take your car keys and try to drive the car? Children's mind works in amazing ways, and unlike us adults, they have little feeling of fear. Nothing is unsurmountable for them. And of course, they wouldn't be children if they knew what's socially right and what is wrong. So what is so incredulous about the fact that someone's child wanted to go to school so bad that he improvised when in a fix? And parents, how many of you would like to be tagged as reckless - no, a threat to your children - if your child did something out of his or her imagination in the few minutes that he or she is out of your direct supervision, that wasn't necessarily good for him or her.

This incident was harrowing for the parents, I'm sure, and they're just mighty relieved that their child is alright. So should be everybody else. Must the state really interfere here and try to make things right? My question as a juror to the prosecutor would be - what do you think the parents did wrong here? As a parent myself, I feel bad for those parents, and shudder at the thought of big brother imposing his hindsight on how I bring up my kids.

Midnight's Children

I have to commend Marvi Memon on her use of social media to get her views from the opposition bench out to the masses. That said, however, I think her post on mobilizing a Pakistani diplomatic offensive to counter India's allegations of the Pakistani origin of Mumbai terrorists reflects some desperate ranting aimed at exciting a mob, and strays far from any serious attempt to address the very serious issue of how the dynamics between the two nations are going to work in these tumultous times.

Marvi starts off by condemning all forms of terrorism in a hurried sentence, and then devotes the rest of her post on talking about how to take India head-on. I'm not sure if she has a plan on even an opinion on what she intends to do about the terrorism that she claims to condemn. In her recounting of facts, she also ignores to mention that some of the terrorists from the recent Mumbai attacks have been traced to Pakistan - as have hundreds others from past attacks all over the world. Now this doesn't mean that the government in Pakistan is harboring terrorism. However, for any of the intelligentia in Pakistan to turn a blind eye to the facts, and to continue to lash out at anybody who dares point out the right course of action, is not going to make things any better for them or the world.

Have attitude, will vend

While we Indians (and actually, Asians in general) lament about our plight in this world, and how we just can't seem to "prosper", maybe someone should draw our attention to one of the primary tenets of capitalism - customer focus. India is probably one of the few "progressive" countries where a customer is turned away by a vendor for lack of loose change to pay for goods. I'm assuming that in a country of a half billion adults, each one of us encounters at least one such condition every month. That's six billion transactions denied every year - at an average rate of five rupees per transaction, that's about thirty billion rupees (three quarters of a billion dollars) worth of transactions lost every year. But that's not it. My transaction of this month (I'm encountering these at one a day nowadays) was today at Alankit - apparently a large financial house - whose Ashok Vihar branch I stopped by to pick up an application form (supposed to be free, but for which they charge five rupees). The genius at the cash counter (who, I wouldn't be surprised, is probably an MBA from some no-name school) could use a lesson in customer service - and how asking your customer to go get change because you can't break a tenner can cost your company four million rupees (about a hundred thousand dollars) in business. The fine people at Alankit, I'm afraid, will never find that out.

Running from my shadow

Kabhi Kabhi Kho Jaata Hoon
Apni Hi Parchhain Se Daudte Daudte

(I get lost sometimes, trying to lose my own shadow)

Back in my college days, I went through this period of philosophical reflection on the meaning of life - especially my own. That's almost never a good phase. Coming out of it sane, however, is the best thing that can ever happen to a person. Anyways, during that phase, a like-minded professor who understood what we were going through (yeah, apparently there was a whole bunch of us, though we didn't know it at the time) warned against the power of our brains. He said that we tend to think more than we should, and whenever that happens, we oughta go out and tire ourselves out - do some or the other physical activity - so that the mind doesn't take control of the body.

I didn't really practice much of that at the time, but whenever I did, it felt good. Coming out of that phase took a couple of (what appeared at the moment to be) good events in life - like landing a job and moving out of town. However, eleven years later, I realize that this battle of control rarely stops. Of course, as we grow older, our reactions are more mature and our thinking more rational. Even though I wouldn't for a day want to trade places with animals in the wild, or with a simple laborer who finds immense happiness and a big ego boost in the very simple task of taking his family out for a free picnic by the beach in a local train (more about that some other day), I can't help envy them for the simplicity of their lives.

Another reason why fine print sucks.

For the longest time, I carried with me the excitement of Apple's new upcoming iTalk or iPhone mobile phone. There was news that it's going to hit the market in summer 2007. And that made perfect sense, given that something that'd carry Apple's momentum forward is long due. So, I convinced Monica to hold on to her current paperweight, which doubles as her cellphone, until the new apple phone comes out. So, that has saved me some immediate expense. I also held on to my Apple stock (almost invested in some more), which went up 15% in the past few days. Then I dumped my PC and climbed onto the Apple train with my first iMac - I was finally a believer.

Eager to spill my excitement and flood the world with it, I launched into an enthusastic conversation about the iTalk with Brian, who instantly denied any knowledge of it. Now, when Brian says something about Apple, Steve Jobs stops to listen, so I frantically searched the net to find the commercial that had started it all. It didn't take long for my dreams to come crashing on me - there's something about having worked in the IT industry for so long, that you begin to have an extrasensory perception of everything on your computer screen including the hidden message in the search results. The message was clear - the iTalk was nothing but the figment of someone's imagination.

I finally found the teaser I had seen long ago. Found it on (where else) Google Video - here it is for everybody to see and read the fine (or, in tech terms, pixelated) print at the beginning. For me, even if it's a dream, it's a darn sexy one - and it's worth living for.

Where to get authentic American food in Mexico

Just south of the border in Tijuana, BC

Death of a Doctor

Kirpal Singh was a self made physician. Driven by a desire to cure a skin condition for his sister, he started researching into the topic. Once he succeeded at curing her, he set out to cure others. Before long, he was a well known homeopathic physician in Delhi. My parents were ardent patrons, if there's such a thing for doctors.

For some reason, Dr. Singh was consulted as a last resort when I had a severe case of eczema of the scalp at about six years of age. He was as furious as a provider can possibly get with his customers (which is a lot in the medical profession, and a lot more for any profession in India). He cured me nevertheless. Took him three attempts, but it was a helluva shorter time than it took the others, and he did it like an artist. It was this wizardry, which comes only from extreme dedication to one's cause that propelled Dr. Singh from his humble beginnings to a renowned (and I understand, well paid) practitioner in a few years.

One evening, a few years later, my dad made the one hour journey to his clinic with my mom in tow. Being the methodical person that he is, dad had also called-in to the doctor to give a heads up on his arrival, especially since it'd be just pushing the clinic closing time. However, once my dad showed up at the clinic five minutes past the last appointment time, the doctor refused to see him.

Now given the amount of time patients with "appointments" wait for physicians, I'm not much of a fan of a physician who's not ready to cut his patients some slack. However, I'm ready to give the doctor the benefit of the doubt here - maybe it was his son's birthday, or maybe just a new year's resolution to be more considerate to his staff. However, his next remark is what I found most interesting. The doctor, came up with an impromptu analogy of how my dad's employer, the post office, probably wouldn't attend to anybody a minute past closing time either. My dad couldn't let the doc get away with the philosophical faux pas. The Post Office, my dad pointed out with due respect, charges five paise to carry a letter from Kashmir to Kanyakumari, and does so for millions of farmers, soldiers and mothers every day. So Doctor, with all due respect, there's no way in the world that you can ever compare your insignificant practice to the Post Office in any manner whatsoever.

The doc had nothing more to say. My dad never consulted with him again.

Would you pee on a friend's wound?

Back when antisceptics weren't a household commodity (and even today, wherever antisceptic isn't found in a bottle on the shelf), human urine was the disinfectant of choice. Pity the villager who gets bit by a snake just as soon as he's done taking a leak. His only hope would be for a true friend to happen to be just passing by, so he can bless his pal with some fresh warm brine.

Random musings of an international man

There are some experiences in life that you don't quite know for sure how to describe. Saying goodbye at the airport is one of them. It's bitter not because you're not going to see someone you love for some time, but because there's the uncertainity of whether you'll ever see them again. It's got that sweet aspect of eager anticipation - sometimes of the journey and sometimes of the destination.

----

The seats inside the Cathay plane were surprisingly small. Sitting in the middle seat, with the person in front of you reclined back, almost feels like being shut in a coffin. When an aircraft accident happens, there are precious few seconds in which everybody needs to make an escape before the smoke engulfs and incapacitates you. Seat 64F is not the position to be in if you hope to be one of those who makes it out in time. You try not to think about that, lean back your seat (passing on the dismay to the one behind you) and try to lose yourself in the hollywood flick flashing on the little LCD screen in front of you. All said and done, economics is the justification - a bit of discomfort and a gamble on life is well worth the roundtrip journey half the way across the world in under $1500.

----

There's a reason that India is a country that specializes in services. Indians are humble by nature, and it takes humility to serve well. Hotels over here are the true epitome of luxury, with people ready to run practically any errand for you at your beck and call. As a side effect, however, one may expect to face what can be called a 'Service Attack'. You find people serving where they shouldn't, and multitudes where there should be just one. Leaving my hotel in Hyderabad for a flight to Delhi, I was mobbed by about 7 people when getting into my cab - all seven having had some part to play in facilitating the simple process of beckoning a cab and getting my modest luggage in there. None of these seven was the cab driver. It'd have been simpler to solve a level five Sudoku, than to figure out how much tip is deserved for the whole service and who should get what.

What is the fastest sport in the world?

Here's a hint - it's not golf.

I remember a teaser from the Star Plus channel (in India) from about twelve years ago - advertising a Badminton event with the tagline "....the fastest game on the planet explodes on Star Plus". I believed them then, but began to grew a shadow of doubt as I tried other sports.

A web search turns out all kinds of results - with websites very confidently touting all kinds of sports like basketball, lacrosse, ice hockey, rocketry (???), laser tag and all kinds of video games as the fastest games on earth. The 2012 olympics website still supports badminton as the officially fastest game on the planet.

I seriously think that table tennis should be a close contender for the title, if not the winner. While the Honolulu Advertiser strengthens my belief, I'd be looking for a yet more reliable source to confirm (or quell) it.

It'd be a little difficult to devise your own criteria to define "fastest sport". For example, reflex time can be one of the criteria. But then, how do you define reflex? Say, how much time does a player have between the opponent's action and his own reaction? In which case, do you take the opponent's fastest action, or average action (for example, in case of badminton, the fastest shuttle speed is 160 mph, but that's not always the case - the slow ones may be 20 mph or so). The fastest action may be misguiding - what about a sport like boxing where the fastest action can be much slower than a 160mph shuttle cock, but given the possibility of having just 6 inches as the distance traveled can make reaction time much much lesser.

I'd just go by experience, and how much sweat you break, and I think badminton takes the cake.

Crisis = Danger + Opportunity

A recent issue of Giant magazine was all raves about Al Gore and his "An Inconvenient Truth" campaign. His book talks about how our generation needs to face the harsh reality about global warming crisis, and step up to the plate to do our bit to minimize fossil fuel usage. Gore recommends taking inspiration from the chinese symbol for crisis, which is actually a combination of two symbols - one for danger and another for opportunity.

Now, I'm really passionate about cutting down on oil and coal reliance. I believe in hybrid cars, solar power driven homes and fluroscent lighting. I wonder what the shape of the world would've been today if the shameful desecration of democracy seven years ago had not happened in Florida, and an environment lover had stepped into oval office instead of a ... (no, I must refrain from unpleasantries).

For now, however, I'm loving Gore for the insightful example he has provided. I love hidden tips like this - they make great dinner table discussions, not to mention great ice-breakers in bars. So I searched online for the said chinese symbol, and it brought me to a number of links talking about this exact duality. Seems like it's quite a cliche. But, buried somewhere in there was a link to an insightful website by Victor H. Mair, a professor of Chinese language at the University of Pennsylvania. Victor flouts this cliche, and very passionately so. He flogs the horse from so many angles, that it seems almost ridiculous that anybody could come up with the comparison at all.

Factual information aside, it almost seems a pity that the chinese character for crisis was not intended to involve a yin-yang fusion of danger and opportunity (and I hope I've not offended the professor in any form by my usage of the words yin and yang). I find it very disappointing when I find out that a perfect romanticism isn't. I've not heard a rebuttal to the professor's views, so for all I know, his comments might be based on misinterpretations.

However, no matter what oriental linguists intended, the message is clear - we have a crisis at hand, and therein lies the opportunity. I see this as not just an opportunity to redeem ourselves (very spiritual), but also to invest in the promise of the future. It's evident that we are going to run out of oil sooner or later. It is also evident that transportation only needs to get faster and more reliable in the future. I think it's a great investment opportunity if we can find the right thought leaders in the industry. It's also a great opportunity for researchers and inventors. But most of all, I think that this is an opportunity for you and I to lead by example - to have a story to tell our grandkids about how the clean air they breathe is yet another thing they need to thank us for.

my.world.com

Thirty.

There, I threw a number at you. Tell me what is the first thing you thought of - honestly.

Thirty is the age at which you start to look back upon the years - for it is just now that you have accumulated enough years to look back upon. This is also when you start to think just a little bit more about the implications of your actions - for there's a sudden realization that those implications affect more than your own personal atmosphere. But more than anything else, this is the age that makes you noticeably humbler for the first time.

Growing up in India taught me how to dream. There are the movie stars and socialites with their glamorous lives, the people in the papers who have been newsmakers overseas, relatives who I never saw but heard of as having broken past the strata of that society to the land of promise. You look at them and you dream of the perfect world that can be yours.

Ten years ago, as I stepped out of student life into the professional world, there were possibilities. There were goals to set, goals to achieve and no time to rest. Nothing was impossible. There was the world to conquer.

I have nothing to complain of the goals that I set, the goals that I achieved and the piece of the world that I conquered (okay, so maybe all I conquered is 1140 square feet with an 80% backing from a bank, but I'm sure that's my fair share). But now, I can't help but feel a bit of humility at the vastness of this world, and all that it offers that's much beyond the goals and targets that eclipse our vision. There's still so much more to see, so much more to experience, and so much more to own.

Living in America has taught me the significance of chasing your dreams. Your life is what you, and mostly you, make of it. Turning thirty, however, has taught me that one must dream in order to live well, but one cannot live a dream forever.

I think I've beaten this dream analogy to death, so let me just come out and say what I want to say. I've realized (it's about time) that for many of us, there's probably no perfect world, no wonderland - that we need to dream of, and slowly build, our own Utopia.

So I'm building my vision of a perfect world. In that world, I have ocean beaches, wide roads and environment friendly BMWs. I have people who smile at you when they make eye contact, open the door for you at a grocery store, but most of all, people who trust other people. I have casinos with free shows, malls with valet parking, and parks with public tennis courts.

I also have milk without hormones, cheap delicious junk food that my taste buds like, maid service seven days a week and twenty channels of my choice on TV. I have courts that handle criminals efficiently and people who don't sue other people for normal human interaction. I have clean streets, schools, libraries, and medical services for all to use.
Most of all, I have family and friends with whom I can relive the past and build a future.

What world do you dream of?

Too much thinking

So I went to post something on Kavita/Nagesh's blog, and the damn thing asked me to get a login first. Now, how rude is that on a scale of one to rude? Imagine your waitress at Cheesecake Factory asking you if you washed your hands first just as soon as you're about to dive into the bread-basket.

So I thought of a username - I had to be careful that it's something that :
a) Looks interesting - (which eliminates the obvious first-name-last-name)
b) I'll remember - (which eliminates everything else)
c) My friends will recognize - (well now we have a real problem)

Two out of three met in a username finalized in two minutes could be considered not bad.

And then I have to think of a title for a Blog. Now why, pray, should I? Here's my thinking - why do any more than you must? And I'm not a lazy bum (by most standards) - in fact, I like to be out and about just as much as the next guy? But to be forced to create a blog just so that I can post a reply to a friend's is just plain outrageous.

Well, so I come up with a title that reflects my latest obsession - but wait!!! That's not all, in order for somebody to be able to get somewhere using the progression of links, I have to have a post in there. And a post needs what - you guessed it, another title.

I think I've blogged enough - I don't mind letting this post end as abruptl